As sand falls in the hourglass . . .

So I really haven’t done all the much work this weekend. Sucks as I never do much work on the weekend. The nice things is that I managed to clean my place up pretty good (vacuum, throw out sentient garbage, clean out Ranger's rancid cage-how does a bunny pee so much in three days?, and scrub down my kitchen and bathroom with newly bought Lysol all purpose green apple disinfectant which burns on my skin and down my nasal passages).

Whew. Point is, am procrastinating from studying and all the fun stuff.

Went to church today with Novaley and Lisa. Novaley is lovely blonde gal from the U of A and Rocky Mountain House whom I can only describe as one of those amazingly graceful and angelic people whom one cannot possibly imagine farting or drinking beer from a bottle. She dutifully does all her readings and homework and manages to stay cheerful and overwhelmingly genuinely likeable despite all of it. Anyhow, she gave me a ride to church today and she was telling me about how stressed she was and how she as worried about going home for thanksgiving cus she really wanted to stay and finish all her readings (even though she's already done the readings for this week and the week following thanksgiving) and then out of no where, she starts bawling.

Well, not out of nowhere. She was talking about how she was worried that she'd chosen the wrong profession and that maybe she should get out before it's too late. How she wants kids but how she also wants to be a professional woman who doesn’t' have time for kids. IT was heartbreaking.

And of course, being me, I was no good at comforting her whatsoever. What the heck was I supposed to do? Anyhow, I ended up babbling on about how no time is ever a good time to have kids (I'm not sure how I thought that was going to help her) and about how you just have to make kids fit into the picture no matter how busy you are. That it's possible somehow. IT was rough.

Anyhow, I also told her I was way behind in my studying and that I did badly on lots of tests and stuff and you just have to learn to deal with it and learn what you want to do, what you don't, how much you are willing to give, and all the shite. She seemed ok by the end. Started apologizing for cracking up on me like that. Sigh.

I guess it's just our family genes that make us so prone to having people crack open to us. Maybe it's cus we seem so pathetic that no matter how bad the other person is feeling they can at least count on the fact that we will always be in a worse situation. I don't know.

I'm worried too that I am in the wrong profession. But then and again, I would have never gotten in without divine will. I'm sure there’s a reason that I’m going to be a vet and not a doctor or a marine biologist. There must be. In the meantime, I can only describe it as that scary time when you are scuba diving and you are just descending into the dark depths and you haven't reached the bottom yet and the visibility is about 1m and you have no idea where the heck you are. You only know that somewhere above you is the surface and somewhere down below, you'll eventually hit the sand. And that if you descend too quickly, you'll bust your eardrums.

Whoa that was deep.
: )

Classmates are funny things. They want to compete with you and do better than you but they want you to like them. I find the only way to do this satisfactorily is by simply trying to do the best you can without worrying about them. They sense the vibe from you and then they don't really consider you competition anymore. It's bizarre.

Well, toodle-oo. Pretty heavy stuff for a Sunday afternoon. I am just procrastinating.

Sigh.